


Out of Nowhere

by freedomworm



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - They're all just chilling, Canon Disabled Character, Chatlogs, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freedomworm/pseuds/freedomworm
Summary: One day, Josh says “wanna go out with me?”, and Julian’s first thought is that this is, without a doubt, the single worst thing to ever come out of his stupid mouth in recent memory.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Several things on my mind as I post this chapter:
> 
> -This was supposed to be a one and done type fic. I so desperately wanted to just write like a 20k fic, upload, and be DONE with it, but if you know anything about me as a writer, you already know how unlikely that is.
> 
> -I started writing this thing May 27, 2018, according to Word, but I seriously have so many WIPs that if I don't begin posting parts of something, I will NEVER post any of it.
> 
> -Someday. Someday I will become one of those people who write perfect, novella-length fics. Today is, sadly, not that day.
> 
> -I haven't had the opportunity to read any X-men comics really beyond a couple of page scans since the first handful of adventures after Schism. Straight up. I have NO idea what's going on right now, but I know that Josh died? More than once, possibly? The whole M-Pox arc? Sounds wack. Marvel writers need to get their shit together. Y'all know it's possible to write a compelling conflict without making it an existential threat, right? That's how you write yourself into a corner. Tch. 
> 
> -Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, characterization may be, uhh, rough. I basically just go on what I remember of the characters and also sort of how I've internalized that memory. This is third-hand characterization, basically.
> 
> - _Anyway_ anyway, title's from XTC. Yeah.
> 
> -the chat logs are based on the Discord format, but obviously... isn't quite that.
> 
> -This fic will be 3-5 chapters by my estimate.

One day, Josh says “wanna go out with me?”, and Julian’s first thought is that this is, without a doubt, the single worst thing to ever come out of his stupid mouth in recent memory.

Julian scrunches his face up on instinct and turns his attention back to his laptop. “Wanna die again?” he says.

“Points for the biting retort, but feels out of character,” Josh says. “I’m deducting points because you lack a pre-established inclination to deliver death threats. One-oh, Josh.” He throws an arm across the back of the sofa and gives no indication that he’s going to leave the spot right next to Julian any time soon.

Julian sighs, though it’s not like he was making any headway on his paper, anyway. Christ, he hates college. Sometimes, he wishes some bad guys would crash in through the side of the study lounge just he could have an excuse to do something else. But it seems Josh’s interrupting presence is as good as the excuses are going to get around here, so Julian puts his laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch and turns to him. “What’s up?”

“I already said,” Josh says, shrugging. “Do you wanna go out with me?”

Julian frowns, “Fuck off. Next question.”

“I’m not joking, Keller,” Josh says, shifting on the couch so he can sit up with his legs tucked under him. He looks ready to pounce.

 _At me_? Julian wonders. _Yikes_. He tilts his head, hoping that squinting at Josh will tell him something new. It doesn’t. Josh just keeps staring at him, steady as ever with those pale blue eyes, like he’s seriously expecting an answer. Yeah fucking right. “Look,” Julian says, “Am I missing something?”

“I think we should date.” Josh says.

“For shit’s sake,” Julian tells him, “We’re _barely_ friends. What are you on?”

“It’s a good idea.” Josh says, and then starts to list things off: “We have a shared history which includes similar, if not the same, trauma. We’ve both seen the worst of each other during high school but now we hang out at least once a week. We have shared interest in sports and television. Our political views are similar, even if you are hilariously underexposed to global politics beyond what”

“-are you _actually_ on your last two brain cells here?” Julian says, and laughs in Josh’s face. “Full offense, but go and pick literally _any_ one of the other people in this building, you fucking weirdo.” Because Josh is—Josh is extremely weird now, in his Omega-level healer galactic-brain way. Okay, maybe not _weird_ . Eccentric. _No_ , Julian decides, Josh really is weird as fuck nowadays, even if at heart, he’s still the jerk Julian remembers from the early days. Case in point: his ridiculous list just now.

“I wasn’t done,” Josh says. “I also think you’re hot, even if you’re sort of boring now.”

Julian can’t tell if he wants to hide his face or flip the bird, and he ends up gritting out, “Fuck off,” even as he can feel his neck heating up. He is _not_ boring.

Josh smirks. “Come on.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Julian says, feeling a twinge in his chest. He recognizes it as that feeling he gets before he hurls a gauntlet into someone’s face.

“Okay,” Josh says. He’s standing up, though, preparing to leave. “Can I ask your reason?”

“Why I don’t want to go out with you?”

“Yeah.” Josh stands by the end of the couch, waiting for Julian’s answer so he can leave. He doesn’t seem phased at all by the rejection, like he was barely invested in a response to begin with. He’s like that a lot now. Detached. Sort of alien, even.

Julian wonders if it’s because he reached some kind of god-like enlightenment about life, or if that’s just some side effect of dying once or twice and coming back. He thinks it over. There’s not much to think about because Josh is dumb. The question was—the _concept_ was— _is—_ outlandish. Stupid.

“Is it because I’m a guy?” Josh says when Julian doesn’t answer straight away. “Because if it is, I guess I miscalculated...”

“Jesus Christ,” Julian says. He squirms a little under Josh’s expectant stare. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

Julian stares at Josh a moment and then reaches for his laptop again. He should really stop trying to figure him out even a little bit. He shrugs. “Wouldn’t wanna _bore_ you.” Then he opens the lid of his laptop and pretends to look at the screen, even though he’s watching the way Josh continues to hover at the end of the couch for another couple of seconds. _Take that, bitch_ , he thinks to himself, smug to have gotten the last word in.

 

It is two hours later as Julian is finally submitting his economics research paper online that it really sinks in. Josh Foley tried to ask him out.

His eyes narrow. _That fucking asshole_.

Julian sees Josh maybe once every other day and usually only in passing, and that guy has the nerve to ask him _out_ ? They don’t even hang out once a week! Julian watches TV in the recreation room and sometimes Josh is also there on a nearby cushion. They barely exchange a dozen words on a good week. The most they talk is over comms when they’re on the same roster for a mission and that, too, is a rarity because Josh is a healer and _rarely_ takes point.

Julian fumes. _The fucking audacity_ , he thinks, and he glares at the doorway of the study lounge where Josh disappeared through long before. _Fuck you_.

 

::

 

**X SQUAD CHAT SQUAD**

 

 **#inner-hell-squad-and-x-and-victor** (private)

\--

 

_overlord – kid lizard the amazing_

 

_online – 4_

an ACTUAL rock

cesspool

julian keller

kid lizard the amazing

 

_offline – 1_

laura the explorer

\--

 

_Today at 1:32 pm_

 

 **cesspool** : why are you leaving meee >:-(((

 **an ACTUAL rock** : come over

 **julian keller** : you could always try coming over to help me unpack,

 **julian keller** : ya know, instead of whining on the chat.

 **an ACTUAL rock** : come over

 **cesspool** : nah

 **cesspool** : im good :-PP

 **kid lizard the amazing** : yeah we’ll just show up for the apartment-warming party

 **julian keller** : there’s no party.

 **julian “the party pooper” keller** : i fucking mean it guys, i won’t even open the door for you

 **julian “the party pooper” keller** : victor, change my name back.

 **kid lizard the amazing** : party.

 **julian “the party pooper” keller** : i take it no one’s coming over to help unpack.

 **kid lizard the amazing** : you have santos

 **an ACTUAL rock** : vic!!! come over

 **julian “the party pooper” keller** : like i said.

 **cesspool** : LOL (burn)

 **cesspool** : anyway you can just use your ~powers~ :-P

 **julian “the party pooper” keller** : fine.

 **kid lizard the amazing** : …p a r t y ? ? ?

 **julian “the party pooper” keller** : fine.

 **kid lizard the amazing** : NICE

 **julian keller** : you guys suck.

 

::

 

The apartment Julian is renting is one bed, one bath, and the combined living room and kitchen is barely enough space to contain all the people who turned up at his door at six o’clock.

Santo has been there since noon when Julian moved in, helping him sort through his boxes in a super vague, unhelpful way.

It surprises Julian a little about just how much stuff he _had_ to bring over. The couple of years at Jean Grey’s where the school wasn’t destroyed once a year actually allowed him to accumulate… possessions. Clothes. Books. Photos from that year everyone had mini polaroid cameras for some reason.

It’s nice. Reminds Julian of how he had stuff growing up, and back then it really was just a fuck ton of _stuff_. Things money could buy. Toys and gadgets and shit.

He has a lot of useless mementos now, too—local movie ticket stubs, wristbands and passes from music festivals, welcome center pamphlets from the road trip to California everyone thought would be a good idea three summers ago. It _was_ fun. It was also a pain in the ass.

Anyway, so Julian has all that stuff he lugs over from the school, and then there’s the other stuff, the stuff he has to buy to furnish a living space of his own. Plates and shit.

Even hindered by Santos’s sad imitation of assistance, Julian still gets everything moved in and placed by four-forty, leaving over an hour to sit and rest on a worn-down couch Miss Pryde— _Kitty—_ let him take from the recreation room.

Now, it’s six-fifteen and Julian finally finishes making rounds of small talk with a dozen or so X-Men he saw just yesterday—some even that very morning on his way out of the mansion.

Well. He hasn’t talked to everyone.

Probably against his better judgement, Julian wanders over to the part of the kitchen where Josh is leaning against the counter, a beer held loosely in his hand.

“Nice place,” Josh says, nodding in greeting.

Julian shrugs. “It would be nicer if it were empty,” he says, raising his voice a little to project to the rest of the apartment, even over the music.

Santos and Victor boo him from the other side of the main room.

There’s a half-amused look on Josh’s face when Julian turns back to him, but he also looks… kind of sad, Julian guesses. Wistful? Rueful? It’s not like he can read minds. “What?” he says.

Josh shrugs. “Must be nice to just move out. Leave everything behind.” His voice is all casual, like he wants to express that he has more Opinions about it, but he won’t actually say what they are.

Julian rolls his eyes. “I’m not leaving _anything_ behind.  I just want some space for a while.” It sounds too dramatic for his liking, so he keeps trying to explain: “I mean. I don’t know. I never really imagined being twenty-three and still living in _basically_ the same place, surrounded by the same people I’ve known since I was _fifteen_.”

Josh put his beer on the counter. “Well, it’s not the same people, though. It’s much less of those people, isn’t it?”

Julian winces almost instinctively and he recoils.

The neutral, almost indifferent expression Josh has been wearing for the past couple minutes finally flips. His mouth pulls down slightly at the corner and there’s a flicker of regret or guilt on his face. “Sorry,” he says. “‘Shut the fuck up, Josh’, right? I don’t know why I said that. Why I said it _like_ that.”

Julian watches him, wary, and doesn’t say anything. A part of him thinks to ask _what are you even doing here?_ He doesn’t get a chance, though, because Megan comes up to him and grabs his upper arm. “Come on, Cards Against Humanity superhero pack! You too, Josh.”

“Oh, no, I’m just here for the drinks,” Josh says, picking up his beer against and raising it to her. “I have to leave now, anyway. I just remembered I have to go water my plants or something.”

Megan rolls her eyes, but seems to know better than to push it, and Josh follows them into the living room to get to the front door.

Everyone else has settled into this cozy reading-circle looking configuration on Julian’s floor, and Hisako is dealing cards in swift motions.

Josh catches Julian’s sleeve when Megan lets him go to take her own place in the circle. “Wanna catch a movie this weekend?” he says, low enough to be ignored by the group fueling up to diss as many of their fellow crime-fighters through a card game as they can.

Julian’s mind jumps back to three weeks earlier. “Are you trying to ask me out again?”

“Yeah, sure,” Josh says, one hand on the door knob. “Movies? Wanna?”

Whatever his angle is, Julian can’t see it. He rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Josh,” he says, and turns away.

 

::

 

If there’s one thing that Julian can do, it is to settle into a routine.

He’s scary good at it, in fact. Something to do with his way of dealing with trauma, his therapist would probably tell him.

His first couple weeks at the new place, he constructs a new routine to follow:

During the week, he wakes up at six-thirty, puts on something business-casual, and flies fifteen minutes to Jean Grey’s where he grabs breakfast. At seven-thirty, he’s part of the group that takes what is known as the morning X-Commute, which is a group teleportation into the Xavier Foundation building in Manhattan, usually facilitated by Megan.

Upon arriving, the group usually splits off, some people heading to the elevators and others heading for the doors.

Tuesdays and Thursdays, Julian heads off to catch a bus over to the Empire State campus so he can go to his lectures. It’s an all day affair, which is what he gets when he schedules all his classes back to back. Julian doesn’t mind, though. He sort of likes to get it all over with, and between his in-person classes and the courses he’s taking online, he’ll be able to graduate at the end of this semester, assuming there’s no catastrophe that sends him off-world for an extended period of time.

Every other day of the week, Julian waves goodbye to Megan and Victor after they arrive at the Xavier Foundation and heads out onto the street toward Stark Tower in Times Square.

His job in the prosthetic innovations department is limited, not just because he’s sometimes on-call for X-Men duties, but because Julian is getting a degree in business communications, not engineering. He was a good intern, though, and apparently his telekinesis is good durability tester for R&D.

Julian spends his days split between testing designs in the Stark demo-labs, and doing his official work, which is mainly putting together media packets, helping handle the Stark Mechanical Ideas Lab social media accounts, and coordinating local school field trip tours. It’s a lot of do-as-needed work, which keeps him on his toes week-to-week.

For his lunch hour, Julian meets up with Megan and-or Victor, or goes out with some of the Stark interns, who are around his age. He talks to people, he follows his routine. Back at Jean Grey’s with the five o’clock X-Commute, dinner at the mansion, then home.

Julian is well-adjusted as _fuck_ , thank you very much.

 

In between dinner and the time Julian goes home, he sometimes sticks around the recreation room to watch TV or join in on whatever ongoing activity or discussion is taking place. He may want his space enough to try living in an apartment outside of the mansion, but he doesn’t want _that_ much space. He likes his friends.

There’s a show on the giant curved-screen TV one night that Julian isn’t totally familiar with, but he knows it’s some new sci-fi drama.

He’s only half paying attention, most of his focus on his laptop, where he’s writing an e-mail to a middle school teacher who’s bringing her class to the Stark Lab in a week.

“Just kiss, you _fucks_ ,” someone bursts out, and Julian glances up to see Josh glaring at the TV, seeming personally offended by the romantic tension on screen.

He snorts, which somehow draws Josh’s attention.

It’s hard to tell from across the dimly-lit room, but he thinks Josh’s face flushes a darker gold, and he turns his attention back to the TV.

Julian watches him for another second.

His legs are tucked up on the couch and he’s sitting fairly relaxed, squished there at the end next to Ruth, wearing a hoodie and those cottony, white pants he’s so fond of.

When Julian finishes the e-mail, he moves on to draft and schedule tweets for upcoming Lab events, as well schedule announcements for related organizations and interests. Then he responds to a strategic number of posts mentioning the Lab, and when he finally looks up, the population of the recreation room has shifted somewhat. A number of people have left for the night, and the TV is turned to a late night show.

Julian closes his laptop, blinking to readjust his eyes to the room. Better head home. He gets to his feet, sliding his laptop into his messenger bag and patting Cessily on the shoulder as he passes her where she’s scribbling away in her latest diary (“journal!” she always insists).  

“Hey, see you tomorrow,” he says, and waits for her to blink up at him and smile.

As he’s leaving, he sees a shine in the corner of his eye, a bit of light making Josh glow more intensely than anyone else gathered in front of the TV. Julian can’t help but look over like a damn magpie, distracted by something shiny. He catches a glimpse of Josh’s profile, awash in the bluish glow of the TV. He has crazy long eyelashes, Julian observes absently, and then scowls. Fuck him, what does he need those for?

 

::

Julian’s new routine is lining up to be a real winner—the best one yet, even. It’s location-based, for one, which allows a lot of adaptability for the inevitable X-Men assignments. Mansion-work-mansion-school-mansion-home is a resounding success during the week, although the weekends still need some work, because other than the traditional late-lunch in town with Cessily on Saturday, it’s all week-by-week activities. Not a bad thing, Julian thinks, but he could use a couple more regular events to commit to.

It’s on a Saturday in late April that Josh knocks on Julian’s door out of the blue.

Julian’s on his way out to begin with, heading out to meet Cessily.

He stares at Josh for a second, blinking in surprise. He hasn’t really seen Josh around at all this particular week, just once on Monday for the morning X-Commute. He wasn’t in the group heading back at the end of the day, but now he’s standing in Julian’s door, or rather, leaning against the wall in the hall right outside.

“Oh,” Julian says. “What’s up?”

“Can I take you on a date sometime?”

Julian squints. _This again_ ? It’s been, like, a month, at least. “Josh, why in the _fuck_ are you still trying to ask me out?”

“You actually answered.”

“Persistence really isn’t that romantic, dude,” Julian says, frowning. He looks at Josh, who seems as indifferent as both of the other times he tried this crap. It pisses Julian off a little. What, like asking Julian on a date is some kind of fucking chore? “Stop asking me. I mean it,” he says.

Josh’s mouth twists into—holy shit, yep, there it goes—a pout. A moment later, he nods. “Okay.” He doesn’t miss a beat; “Wanna make out?”

It actually catches Julian off guard enough that he lets out a laugh and closes the door right in Josh’s face. The second it’s closed, Julian’s laugh catches in his throat.

Josh’s voice rings in his head, and it really doesn’t seem like that bad of an offer.

Christ.

 

::

 

**@cesspool**

_Today at 12:42pm_

 

 **julian keller** : i have a problem.

 **cesspool** : oh worm?

 **cesspool** : and im currently sitting in tonyas btw, waiting for you

 **cesspool** : but no hurry i guess

 **julian keller** : dude,

 **julian keller** : josh asked me out

 **cesspool** : WHAT!! Are you ditching me to go on a date??

 **julian keller** : fuck no. i rejected, but what the hell, right?

 **julian keller** : i mean, what else did he expect?

 **cesspool** : idk you could said hell yea???

 **cesspool** : objectively hot guy wants to date you wowwwww

 **cesspool** : boo fuckin hoo

 **julian keller** : it was JOSH.

 **cesspool** : is THAt your only hang up??

 **julian keller** : no.

 **cesspool** : well ok so is he bothering you now

 **cesspool** : do i need to fight him to protect your virtue

 **cesspool** : is that why ur still not at tonyas

 **julian** **keller** : no. i just. what’s his deal?

 **cesspool** : a mystery even my infinite wisdom cant comprehend tbh

 **cesspool** : maybe you should ask laura

 **julian** **keller** : ugh.

 **cesspool** : is it just weird for you bc you totally had a hate boner for him in hs so now you don’t know how to handle yourself as an adult

 **julian** **keller** : i did not.

 **cesspool** : :-P if you say so……..!

 **julian** **keller** : that punctuation is excessive.

 **cesspool** : :-P

 **cesspool** : get ur ass over here

 

::

 

Julian stares at his front door for a minute.

For some reason, Josh is still out there.

He can sense it, when he checks the area around him, and Julian wonders if the reason Josh hasn’t left is because he can also tell that Julian is still standing on the other side of the door. He wonders if Josh can sense people like that, in his own way. He assumes so.

 _Fuck it_ , Julian thinks. He’s not about to let Josh stop him from lunch with Cessily, but he’s not going to risk the blow to his pride by opening the door again, either.

He flies out the window in his bedroom.

It’s a good thing he does, too, because when he walks into Tonya’s to go over to his and Cessily’s usual corner, he’s sees Laura sitting there, too.

Julian grins because he hasn’t seen her in—God, half a year, he thinks—and when she stands up as he approaches, he holds his arms out for a hug.

She hugs him. Success.

“Hey,” he says when they step back.

She flashes him one of her rare, total mega-watt smiles, which are guaranteed to make Julian feel like a million bucks. Her smiles are as warm as her glares are pants-shittingly scary.

“Yeah, and I’m here, too,” Cessily pipes up, pretending to be annoyed. She grins.

They order their food and Laura tells them what she’s been up to, or at least, she tells them vaguely where she’s been, since most of her work is classified X-Force stuff. Or is it S.H.I.E.L.D work? Joint-organization work? Julian has no idea.

Laura shares photos she has stored in the cloud and Julian swipes through the images of streets and sights on his own phone.

She takes a lot of picture of people—a habit, Julian figures, from the surveillance she has to do for missions. In the pictures she shares though, the people she captures are full of life, vibrant—nothing clinical about them. A mother reaches out to wipe ice cream from a giddy child's face in a busy cobblestone square. An elderly woman in a narrow market street leans in to smell a bouquet of flowers. Two teenagers lounge on a beach, one face up to the sun, his eyes closed, and the other smiling faintly in the camera’s direction, unable to fully ignore the photographer in that moment.

“Damn, Laura,” Cessily says, “I think you missed your calling.”

Laura just shakes her head, but Julian glances over his phone at her and sees the way she ducks behind a cup of iced tea, hiding her pleased smile.

It all goes well until they’re heading out of Tonya’s and to Jean Grey’s. That’s when Cessily says to Laura, “So, help Julian and I figure something out. Josh asked Julian to go out with him.”

“Foley?” Laura says. She looks at Julian, seeming to assess his state of being for a moment. “So how did it go?”

“I didn’t say _yes_ ,” Julian says, making a face.

Laura shrugs, smirking a little, though it’s mostly in her eyes.

They climb into her car, since she apparently drove herself and Cessily over for lunch.

“Josh asked me out,” Julian says after he loses shotgun to Cessily and is relegated to the backseat. He feels like repeating himself might garner more sympathy.

“I’m confused,” Laura says, she glances back at him as she reverses out of the parking lot. “What is there to figure out?”

“It’s _Josh_.”

Again, Laura shrugs. “Yes,” she says, but in a way that makes Julian sputter, feeling as though—as though—

“You two,” he says, sitting back, “are traitors.”

Cessily laughs and twists in her seat to look back while Laura drives. “Sorry, it’s just. It’s kind of funny, Julian.”

He scowls. “Please. Enlighten me.”

Cessily just shakes her head. “I couldn’t if I tried. It’s just… you… _Josh_. I never would’ve thought it a couple years ago.”

“There’s _still_ nothing to think about,” Julian says, “And I regret telling you any of this.” He groans, “If he asks again, I’ll kick his ass, I will.”

“I mean, if you said no, I doubt he’ll try again,” Cessily says, rolling her eyes. “I’ll have you know, Josh’s ego is the most durable part of him, but rejection will probably still land a decent blow to it.”

 _No fucking wonder_ , Julian thinks; “Cess,” he says, “Today was the _third_ time.”

Her jaw doesn’t drop like he expects. Instead, Cessily starts to look sort of sad.

 _Fuck me, what now_? Julian wonders.

“Oh,” she says, and she looks at Laura. “Do you think he’s lonely or something?”

Laura sighs. “I could… _talk_ to him,” she volunteers, reluctant.

“Hey,” Julian says, feeling shut out from whatever silent conversation is happening in the front. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Oh come on,” Cessily says, turning back, “It’s obviously some kind of scheme to draw you in like a Venus Flytrap. He’s winding you up.”

“I’m a fly in this situation?” Julian says,

“Be nice to him!”

He gapes at her. _What_?!

 

::

 

 _Lonely my ass_ , Julian thinks, staring cross the courtyard to where Josh is sprawled out on the grass under a bit of shade. He’s wearing sunglasses, his arms folded behind his head.

It’s possible he’s asleep.

Understandable; it’s a nice day out—sunny, mid-eighties with a light breeze. There probably isn’t a single person at Jean Grey’s not currently poolside or out somewhere on the lawn of the estate, basking in the sun.

Josh has never looked lonely a day in his goddamn life.

 _Not that you’ve seen, anyway,_ pipes up a sing-songy voice in the back of Julian’s head. It’s a voice that sounds suspiciously like Cessily.

Julian frowns.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” And this time, it’s _actually_ Cessily who speaks. She’s smirking at him from across the courtyard table they’re sitting at, where they can get a good view of the ultimate Frisbee game going on nearby.

“Dare you to go talk to him,” she says.

Julian scrunches his nose at her. “Why? What are you, thirteen?” He slouches in his seat, “If you think he’s so fucking lonely, why don’t you go talk to him?”

Cessily flips her magazine close and stands. “Fine,” she says.

“Fine,” Julian says. He picks up her magazine and flips it open, pretending not to watch her go. _I don’t give a fuck_.

He glances up when he figures she’s walked halfway and isn’t about to look back at him, though.

Cessily walks right up to where Josh is lying and nudges his him with her sandal, saying something Julian can’t make out from the distance or the angle. _Hey_ , probably.

Josh lifts up his sunglasses and looks up, propping himself up on one elbow with an easy grin. The sun glints off his skin, then off Cessily’s. Jesus, it’s blinding.

Julian looks down at Cessily’s magazine, blinking.

 _‘21 TOP SEX TIPS FROM READERS LIKE YOU!_ ’

He makes a face. He does this a lot these days. He’s not sure who he picked that particular habit up from, and Julian is trying to figure it out when a shadow falls over him.

Josh is standing there, because of course he is, and Cessily is nowhere to be seen anywhere behind him.

Julian’s going to kill her slowly. He makes a mental note of it, scheduling it in right after ‘ _find a way to phase through the ground_ ’.

“You’re not wearing a high enough SPF to be sitting right here for so long,” Josh informs him. “Your skin will pay for it later.” His sunglasses are resting on top of his head, which is haloed by the late afternoon sun behind him.

Julian squints up at him, wondering if Josh has some sort of dramatic sixth sense that allows him to always be standing right in front of a source of bright light. He’s fairly certain this is not the first time Josh has evoked this celestial imagery.

“So?” Julian says, petulant. Very nice. Smooth.

Josh shrugs. “Don’t cry to me when you get skin cancer,” he says.

Skin cancer is pretty low on Julian’s general list of worries. He makes a—no, he keeps his face very much un-scrunched, blinking hard to keep it that way. “What do you want?” he says, a feeling of suspicion creeping over him. _He wouldn’t_ , Julian thinks, _not twice in one day_.

Josh frowns a little, suddenly looking apologetic. “I’m.” He huffs out a breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Cessily—well. I’m sorry,” he says, “For bothering you. And if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

Julian blinks. “Huh?”

Josh stares at him, like Julia was supposed to say something else, and not that, but then again: _huh_?

Eventually, Julian clears his throat. “Um, no. It’s whatever, man.”

“’Kay,” Josh says, and snaps right out of awkward and into something that borders on arrogance again. “Thanks. Later.”

“Sure,” Julian says vaguely, and well. He watches Josh walk off. _Guess that’s the end of_ that _, then._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter 3/8/19! As promised, there is more action! Kind of. Sort of.
> 
> Anyway, my school runs on a quarter system so it's finals week coming up and that means a shit ton of projects. So unfortunately, chapter three probably won't be up as quick, though I'm going to try and get it done and posted for at least the following Friday, 3/22. Enjoy! :)

**X SQUAD CHAT SQUAD**

 

 **#hell-squad** (private)

\--

 

_overlord – cesspool_

 

_online – 8_

an ACTUAL rock

cesspool

elixir

julian keller

kid lizard the amazing

laura the explorer

pixiestix

roxxy

 

_offline – 14_

🅱atch

celeste ♡

helloa ;)

hisako

Irma

Kid Ω

Nezhno

nori “mutants can’t parallel park” ashida

Paras

PHOEBE

Prodigy

ruth(less)

Sooraya Qadir

♕✩Your Highness✩♕

\--

 

_Today at 2:46 pm_

 

 **pixiestix** : TELEPORTING TO UTOPIA AFTER XCOMMUTE TOMORROW MORNING

 **pixiestix** : FRONT LAWN @ 7:30 AM

 **pixiestix** : BE THERE OR BE SQUARE~~

 **kid lizard the amazing** : come on, are you serious?!

 **pixiestix** : should’ve submitted for vacay! :P

 **an ACTUAL rock** : sry bro nxt time

 **elixir** : the bamfs are taking over x-commute for the week, right?

 **pixiestix** : :)

 

::

 

Julian is near the end of his shift when the local asshole-villain of the month triggers an alert on his phone that says shit is being destroyed in lower Manhattan.

The Avengers are on the scene, and Mara, the Julian’s office supervisor, put the news on the holo-screen at the front of the office, where it fills the ceiling to floor frame with news chopper coverage.

The live footage shows the fight taking place on the streets below, providing a clear view of the bad guy, some dude floating in the air surround by a purple energy, and hurling objects every which way, as civilians run from their cars for cover.

“Julian?” Soo-kyung says. She has the desk next to his and is staring up at him—and fuck, when did he stand up?

Out of the corner of his eye, Julian sees Mara stalking his way, and he turns back to his desk quickly.

“No,” Mara says, “Keller, you can go.”

He hesitates. The Avengers have it under control… _but Christ_ , he thinks, _the flying debris_. It all has to land somewhere, and rush hour just began.

Mara is clearly thinking the same thing. “We’re good here,” she says. “But they could use you out there. _Go_.”

He flies.

 

By the time Julian arrives on the scene, the fight has stretched up the block and ended, the Avengers having successfully taken out the madman attempting to—well, Julian doesn’t know. Probably something along the lines of world domination.

About three blocks of the city have been roped off by the authorities, the streets and some storefronts damaged by flying lamp posts, flying _cars_ , and anything the purple asshole could get his hands on, it seems.

Julian lands within the police barrier, bypassing the first news vans arriving on scene, as well as the EMS vehicles. He flashes his S.H.I.E.L.D-issued badge that more or less tells first responders ‘hey this guy can lift things for you’, and it works like a charm; Julian is sent ahead to move rubble for EMS responders.

He turns off his thoughts for this. Focuses on the present moment. Follows orders. Goes from unit to unit, area to area, as needed.

It’s a bad one. There were a lot of civilians in the crossfire.

Julian helps tear the roof off a vehicle where a woman is trapped. He pulls a lamp post out of a window display, pushes a section of asphalt away from a storefront where it has somehow jammed in front of the door and trapped the people inside.

He does what needs help doing all the way to the other side of the police barriers, and then he sweeps back to help EMS responders float injured civilians up to the treatment tent set up to receive medical transport. He encounters twisted ankles, concussions, cuts and bruises, and a broken leg.

When the last of the patients are carried away and S.H.I.E.L.D clean-up is moving in on the street, ready to return it to its normal look with their scary efficiency, Julian finally breathes.

 _And we’re back_ , he thinks numbly, feeling light-headed.

Sometimes he thinks it’s easier to just fight the bad guy. The aftermath for the shit like this… it fucking sucks. It’s the kind of gritty reality that makes him this _fuck this job_ every time... until he sees who he’s helping, and he sees their relief, their subsiding fear, their dazed gratefulness. Then it becomes worth it a thousand times over.

Julian is walking back up to the north-side police barrier when he spots a familiar flash of gold out of the corner of his eye.

It’s Josh, sitting on the curb up the street. He’s washing his hands with a water bottle. The run-off is pink. There’s blood on his hands. Blood on his sweater.

Julian goes over, and stops short, his shoes scuffing loudly on the gravel. “Hey.”

Josh looks up, putting the now-empty water bottle to the side and shaking his hands dry. He wipes them off on a less bloody patch of his sweater. “Hey,” he says, sounding tired. “How’s it going?”

Julian snorts, and reaches down, offering a hand that Josh takes and allows to help pull him to his feet.

He sways a little once he’s upright.

Julian gets that.

They start up the street without another word and Josh tosses the empty bottle in an overflowing bin on the side of the street before pulling off his hoodie. He folds it up carefully so that the worst of the mess is not visible as they approach the police barrier; there are still news vans lined up on the other side, journalists covering the story even now that the scene has been evacuated and S.H.I.E.L.D has started clean up procedure.

“Did they… are they okay?” Julian asks, watching as Josh tucks the bloody sweater under his arm.

“She will be,” he says. “Split skull, that’s all. Kept trying to walk it off.” He smiles thinly. “I thought I was going to have to smother her to make her stay down so I could heal the worst of it.”

 _Split skull, that’s all_. Julian just nods, feeling tired and just a little pissy because of it.

Manhattan has the nation’s record for responding to super-human crime, and the two hours felt like so much longer when Julian was living them, and yet, they’d gone by in a flash, too.

“Hey, do you wanna go get something to eat?” Josh says, pulling Julian back into the present, out of his head. “There’s this flat top grill place three blocks ahead. It’s pretty good.”

Julian nods.

He slumps across from Josh in the dim restaurant, absently circling ingredients on the sheet provided by their server, feeling like his jaw is glued shut, like he could go on for the rest of his life and never say anything else.

Josh is slouched forward on the table, his bloody sweater stuffed in a gray grocery bag on the seat next to him, hidden from the public. He has a neutral expression on his face—not really tired, and not bored, either—and he fills out his order methodically before setting the sheet aside for the waitress to collect. He turns to his phone for a while.

Josh is not terrible company, which doesn’t surprise Julian, even though recent experience should’ve predicted that Josh would be insufferable.

 _He_ is _insufferable_ , Julian thinks, _but he’s not a total dick_. High praise. Julian considers sending Josh a card. ‘ _Congratulations!_ _You’re O.K!_ ’

But he knew that all along.

“What?” Josh says.

Their food has just arrived, set on the table before them.

Julian blinks,  the direct conversation seeming to have melted the stuck feeling in his throat. He thinks he can actually feel the cogs in his brain finally slowing the fuck down, thank Christ. “What?” he says. It’s like he’s shaking off some kind of spell, some kind of post-battle fatigue, even though he hasn’t fought anyone today.

Josh raises his eyebrows for a moment, then turns his attention on his food. “Nothing, I guess,” he says, “You just looked like you were thinking about something funny, but in that way where you sort of want to cry about it, too.”

This is familiar territory. “Fuck you,” Julian says, picking up a fork.

Josh shrugs.

Jesus, those shrugs. Julian’s has had enough of Josh shrugging in his direction to last a fucking lifetime. ‘ _Not a total dick’_. Is it too late to take that back?

Julian stabs at his food. And here he’d been, thinking generous Josh-related thoughts.

They eat in silence, and okay, it’s not awkward or anything, but… after a bit, Julian’s thoughts begin to wander into a place of over-analysis. He doesn’t think he’s ever just eaten a meal with Josh, the two of them alone. The thing Cessily said the other week comes back to Julian, and eventually he glances up at Josh and squints a little.

_Lonely, huh?_

Somehow that explanation puts a bitter taste in Julian’s mouth, and sitting with Josh right across from him, he finally figures out why.

He puts his fork down and takes a sip of his drink, staring at Josh hard.

Josh seems to feel the gaze and now it’s his turn to look up and go, “What?”

Julian hesitates for a moment. Should he bring it up? They’ve got a semi-easy thing going on right now. _Hey_ , he thinks, _fuck it_ . They’re both basically done eating by now, so it can’t be _too_ awful. “Look,” he says, “I know you apologized or whatever, but it was still a shit move. You could’ve asked someone you actually had, like, _any_ rapport with.”

“Rapport?” Josh repeats, raising his eyebrows.

Julian scowls. “That’s your big takeaway?”

Josh shrugs and says, “I’m sorry, what exactly are you talking about here?”

Goddamn. Fucking hell. “Trying to ask me out, dude,” Julian says, “That was a shitty thing to do?”

“No,” Josh replies. He waves the server over for the cheque. “I didn’t apologize for that, and I’m not going to. But I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have kept asking.”

Julian blinks. “What the fuck are _you_ talking about?”

Josh fixes him with a long look which suddenly begins to reflect Julian’s own feeling of confusion. “I said I wasn’t kidding. Didn’t I tell you that? I’m pretty sure that was covered.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t doubt you on that, but you’re missing the point,” Julian says, “You can’t just—you should’ve picked someone else!”

“Julian. _Why_ would I have done that?”

They must make a sight to their server who comes over just then, the two of them both staring at each other like they’re stupid.

Josh grabs the bill first and shoves cash back toward the server immediately.

Julian doesn’t even know when he took out his wallet.

“Keep the change,” Josh says, and stands, grabbing his bloody hoodie and heading off.

Julian says a rushed _thanks_ to the server and stalks after Josh because they’re not done with this conversation, _goddammit_ . Josh isn’t _getting_ it!

He catches up to Josh on the street outside, where he’s breathing out a stream of smoke, a vape pen in hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of zen health nut?” Julian says.

Josh gives him an amused look and just starts walking, like he assumes Julian will fall into step next to him.

And he _does_ , obviously—what other option is there—but also, fuck Josh.

“Look,” Josh says, “It’s not that complicated. I don’t know how to communicate this to your tiny rat brain any other way, but I asked _you_ out specifically, and if you’d have said yes, I would one hundred percent have taken you on a date.”

“Yeah,” Julian says, irritation making him feel twitchy, “But you were just”—and he stops, realizing how ridiculous it would be to tell someone _yeah, but you were just lonely and even though you decided I was the solution, it was a bad idea to begin with because you don’t actually like me and fuck you for thinking just dating someone would solve your problems just because everyone knows dating Alani fixed your depression that one time, or brought you off the edge of potential villainy or whatever the fuck._

A couple seconds pass where Julian just grits his teeth. This was pointless. Shouldn’t have brought it up.

Josh suddenly laughs, smoke billowing from his nose and mouth and _seriously_ , what sort of self-destructive habit is smoking to a _healer_?

“Do you want me to take you on a date, Keller?” he teases, “I mean, we just had dinner and all, just us two, and I paid.”

“If your idea of a date is catching dinner with your bloody clothes on the seat next to you, that fucking sucks,” Julian says, then, “And I could’ve paid for myself.”

“We’ll go again and split the bill,”

Julian rolls his eyes. “In that case, how can I refuse?”

Josh has the nerve to elbow him.

“Try that again, I dare you,” Julian says, “I’ll make you feel like you just hit walked into a brick wall at top speed.”

Josh laughs and feigns reaching out to jab Julian in the side again.

He falls for it like an idiot with zero reflexes, side-stepping the imaginary attack. “I mean it,” Julian says.

“I didn’t do anything,” Josh says, flapping his arms to demonstrate the distance between them. The bag with his sweater spins in the air.

“Watch where you fucking swing that thing,” Julian mutters, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Afraid of a bag of clothes?” Josh smirks.

They walk several blocks like this, Josh taunting and Julian responding with clipped threats that only serve to widen Josh’s grin, which Julian discovers is sort of infectious with prolonged exposure, like catching sunshine or some bullshit. _Getting a sunburn, more like._

By the time they near Times Square, Julian just lets out a huff, giving up. “Just shut up,” he says, and Josh cackles and gives himself a high-five because he’s ten, apparently.

Julian loses the fight with the muscles in his face and just lets the amusement linger in his expression. He shakes his head.

Josh trades his vape pen for his phone and says, “I texted Celeste. She said a couple of bamfs will meet us at the Xavier building and take us home.”

Julian nods and trails after Josh to the Xavier Foundation building just off Times Square. Their X-Man I.Ds get them past the visitor lobby and into the room on the mezzanine floor that is simply labeled ‘ _transportation_ ’.

The bamfs are already waiting inside. With a familiar lurching sensation and a glimpse of red, Julian and Josh arrive in the front hall of Jean Grey’s, purplish smoke dissipating around them.

“Thanks,” Julian tells the bamf at his shoulder, and it grins wide before launching into the air and disappearing once more.

Josh kicks at the carpet with one foot. “Are you going home now?”

Julian shrugs. His phone tells him it’s a quarter to nine. “I guess.” Half of everyone is on the Utopia trip, anyway.

“Oh, well.” Josh pauses, mid-turn, and glances back. “I mean, you could stick around. You don’t have a TV at your apartment, anyway, right?”

It’s true. He could always just watch TV on his laptop, but the WiFi at his apartment, while sufficient for doing homework, isn’t that great with streaming video. “Yeah, guess I could watch something for a while,” Julian says eventually.

He trails after Josh through the familiar halls and into the Rec Room, which is surprisingly deserted except for a small circle of what Julian is _pretty_ sure are kids from the freshmen class, playing a complicated looking card game in a corner.

He follows Josh in dropping onto the couch, and because they do it at the same time, there’s a minor collision between them in the middle as the cushions dump them toward the center of the seat.

Julian locates the familiar dimensions of the switch at the edge of the TV screen and begins flicking through the channels, slumped comfortably on the spot.

“Stop,” Josh says, and he does, blinking.

The history channel is playing a special on contact with non-human civilizations through history and Julian watches in silence for a while, enraptured by the narrator’s totally misguided interpretation of the people of Atlantis.

“So you-?” he starts to say, turning.

Josh is asleep, head tilted back against the couch, his mouth slightly ajar.

Julian stares at him a beat, then checks his phone again. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone clock-out before ten on a non-mission day and it makes him grin a little as he turns his attention back to the screen, switching the channels again.

He lands on an action movie, some blockbuster that came out that summer, and he watches about a minute of buildings getting blown up before he switches back to the awful history special. “This is ignorant as fuck, you know,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” Josh says sleepily, apparently awake again. “But you sort of get sucked in anyway, right? In a dumb way.”

Julian looks at him. “Don’t people complain?”

“Oh yeah. The reviews are scathing. Twitter roasts the hell out of them. It’s hilarious.”

Julian blinks and watches the show without comment for a moment. “These graphics fucking suck,” he says.

“Yep.”

Julian stares at the screen. “I think _Shark Tank_ is on. Are you gonna fall asleep?”

“Shut up. I wasn’t asleep,” Josh says.

“Oh, right. You were resting your eyes,” Julian says, rolling his eyes and flicking through the channels.

“Damn straight,” Josh mutters. He shifts on the couch, bringing his legs up on the cushion and hugging his knees to his chest. His arm rests against Julian’s, not enough to really make him wonder, but enough to notice.

They watch _Shark Tank_ in silence for a moment.

“Thought you’d try and be some kind of entrepreneur or something one day,” Josh says.

“What?”

“Business. It always seemed like your kind of thing. I always figured you’d try a start some kind of company and rob the masses of their hard-earned cash.”

“Rob?” Julian repeats, but far from feeling insulted, he’s amused. “You’re thinking about fraud.”

This time when Josh shrugs, Julian can feel it. “What do I know?” he says.

“You need an idea to start a company, anyway,” Julian says,

“You don’t have ideas?”

Julian stares at the guy on screen still trying to pitch the Sharks some useless gourmet water. “Nah,” he says, “I just don’t wanna sell people things. After everything we’ve been through, it doesn’t feel worth it to try and hack it at some semblance of normal life where the only thing that matters is money.” He doesn’t think he’s expressing himself properly. “I mean, my parents owned a bond company out in Hollywood, but fuck if I know why,” he says, “They just wanted to be rich. I don’t think they even really cared about movies. They definitely didn’t give a shit about people. But I do. And I want to do work where other people give a shit about people. I like the job I have now, and hopefully after I graduate, they’ll offer me a full-time position.”

Josh is looking at him, but Julian just watches the TV. If he returns the gaze, he won’t be able to stop the hot flush rising around his collar. _Typical_ , he thinks. He was asked a simple question and ended up blurting out a whole mess of sincerity. _Smooth_.

“Stark prosthetics are pretty cutting edge,” Josh comments.

“And affordable,” Julian says automatically, relieved to push on from his little monologue.

“Well, getting there, anyway,” Josh replies.

Finally, Julian can’t help but glance sideways.

There’s a little smile on Josh’s face and a glint in his eyes, like he knows some great secret about Julian.

“Getting there,” Julian concedes. “So, what do you do?” he asks abruptly, realizing he doesn’t quite know.  

Sure, Josh goes with the X-Commute group some days, which means he must have occasional business in the city, but it doesn’t seem to be work. And from what Julian has seen of him around the school, he doesn’t think Josh holds a staff position, either.

“I’m taking a year off,” Josh says.

“From what?”

“School, obviously,” he answer. After a beat, Josh sighs. “I need more money to cover grad school.”

“You’re doing grad school?” Julian says, surprised for some reason, even though a lot of their class has gone on to get some sort of degree. He just doesn’t remember seeing Josh doing anything that looked like studying over the years, though now that he know better, it would probably explain _why_ Julian hasn’t seen Josh that much at _all._

“No, Keller,” Josh says, “I’m taking a year off. There’s this free clinic in District X that I work at.”

“Oh,” Julian says, blinking. “You guys leave earlier or something?”

“Seven. It’s usually just me that goes.”

Julian has forgotten all about watching the TV and it just gazing at Josh, oddly fascinated by these revelations. “What, so you’re gonna be a doctor someday? Are you saving up for med school? And people aren’t just dumping scholarships on you left and right?”

“I have scholarships,” Josh says, making a face. “But I still need money to like, have a life after everything.”

Julian nods.

There’s only so much money to go around between the X-enterprises, what with running mutant schools tuition-free, financing missions and related expenses, running philanthropy programs, and trying to offer additional financial support to practically every disowned mutant in existence.

At some point, over the years, Julian and his fellow classmates have all quietly bucked up and started to find their own way in life.

“And I’m not going to med school,” Josh adds. “I sort of already know all that stuff. There’s no point in getting a degree when I know I’d never be allowed to use my powers in the public sector.”

“Seriously?” Julian says.

“Liability, dude. I’d get sued out of existence.”

 _Liability_ ? Julian gapes. “ _How_? That’s bullshit.”

Josh smiles wryly. “It is what it is. Anyway, I can do what I want at the clinic, but it’s small, you know? And it’s still… people still don’t really go to District X if they can help it.”

“So then what are you… like, what are you studying in school?” Julian wonders.

“Public Health.”

“Oh, sweet, so that’s like…” He blanks, not sure exactly what it means.

Josh pats his knee and Julian startles slightly.

“I’m going to try and get mutants and people like us better access to more specialized treatment,” Josh says. He pauses. “Or something.”

Julian snorts. “Yeah. Or something.”

They go back to watching TV and Julian feels oddly satisfied to have updated his working knowledge of Josh Foley as a person. It peels away some of the mystery, makes him seem not so aloof, after all.

At one point, Josh’s leg suddenly slips down from the seat cushion and he jerks.

Julian looks over at him and laughs. “You’re totally falling asleep,”

“Shut up,” Josh says, but he can’t deny it this time around as he yawns, “Healing is draining. At least I’m not comatose.”

Julian stares at him for a moment, thrown by the levity of the comment.

Josh blinks a little bit of the exhaustion out of his eyes. “It’s a _joke_.”

“I know what a fucking joke is,” Julian says. And then: “Maybe you should just go to sleep.”

Josh checks the time on his phone. “Fine,” he says grumpily, but he doesn’t move to get up and in fact, slumps down a little more into the the couch, sliding sideways in the process. He stares at the TV, now on commercial, with a resolute expression.

 _One-Mississippi_ , _Two-Mississippi_ , _Three-Mississippi_...

Julian watches as Josh’s blinks grow slower and slower. “This is sad,” he says when Josh’s eyes finally just don’t open.

Josh makes a humming sound, the kind Julian recognizes as a mostly-sleeping person trying to pretend that not being able to open their eyes doesn’t mean a thing.

With a sigh, Julian pokes and prods at Josh until he’s on his feet and can be led to an actual bed. Dumping Josh off to his room to sleep off whatever post-power-using lethargy is taking hold will mean having to just head home himself, but maybe it’s for the best. Julian has class tomorrow, after all.

He walks with Josh through the fairly quiet mansion.

Josh is quiet in his bleariness, but once they’re under the fluorescent light of the elevator, Josh’s eyes open again and he stares into middle space. When they reach the third floor, he shuffles out without a word, leaving Julian to trail after him.

 _Might as well,_ he thinks, if only just to make sure Josh doesn’t face plant on the carpet.

Josh’s room is one of the larger rooms in the staff quarters, which raises some vague questions in Julian’s mind if only because the last time he checked, Josh wasn’t teaching.

Julian watches from a couple steps back as Josh unlocks his door and walks into the darkness of his room, disappearing without actually closing the door. After a beat, he reappears, leaning against his door and gazing at Julian with a weary, slightly unfocused expression.

“Well,” he says. He tilts his head and smiles tiredly. “I’ll take you on a better date next time. No bloody bags.”

“Today wasn’t a date,” Julian says, but he feels no defensiveness or irritation this time around. God help him, he thinks they’ve got an inside joke now.

“Damn,” Josh says. “But we hit all the cliches… disaster response… dinner… movie…”

“ _Shark Tank_ isn’t a movie,” Julian says, “And I’m going now, so don’t just fall asleep on your door.” Brusque. Brusque is good. He begins to turn, to head back down the hall.

“Night, Julian,” Josh says.

He looks back, at Josh who is pushing off the door so he can close it and probably pass out on his bed. He’s slightly pathetic in his exhaustion, Julian finds, and it reminds him of how long they’ve been doing this sort of thing —jetting off on missions, passing out on flights home.

Today, Julian moved heavy rubble and tore away twisted metal to help first responders reach trapped civilians. He did it without breaking a sweat. And Josh healed someone with a split skull, plus countless others who might’ve been left in serious condition without him.

Julian doesn’t remember exactly why they all decided the world’s problems were their responsibility, but that’s how it is and how it will undoubtedly remain for a long time, their attempts at normality be damned.

“Goodnight, Josh,” Julian says.

::

 

**X SQUAD CHAT SQUAD**

 

 **#jean-greys-bulletin** (public)

\--

_online – 18_

[expand member list]

 

_offline – 47_

[expand member list]

\--

 

_Today at 8:49 a.m_

 

 **nICEman** : Whoever left a bag of bloody clothes in the Rec Room better come get it NOW

 

::

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someday, I will remember who ♕✩Your Highness✩♕ is supposed to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was real fuckin’ bold of someone with my track record to make the claim of an update by March 22 and I apologize.  
>  

**X SQUAD CHAT SQUAD**

 

 **#inner-hell-squad-and-x-and-victor** (private)

\--

 

_overlord – kid lizard the amazing_

 

_online – 3_

cesspool

julian keller

laura the explorer

 

_offline – 2_

an ACTUAL rock

kid lizard the amazing

\--

 

_Today at 8:34 a.m_

 

 **cesspool:** i am diSTRAUGHT

 **julian keller:** already?

 **cesspool:** lauras through the gates :((

 **julian keller:** oh. 

 **cesspool:** will i ever know the meaning of joy again??

 **laura the explorer:** Cessily, I will be back in two weeks.

 **cesspool:** longest two weeks of my LIFE

 **cesspool:** miss you already girl :(

 **cesspool:** :’(

 **julian keller:** just send a heart, laura.

 **laura the explorer:** <3

 **cesspool:** light of my life

 

::

 

In the harsh light of day Thursday morning, Julian isn’t super sure how that night of hanging out with Josh might have changed things, and therefore he’s smartly elected to ignore the issue altogether in favor of returning to his routine.

He’s had to adjust, since pretty much everyone took off to Utopia and aren’t scheduled to be back for another day.

With Jean Grey’s so empty except for the students Julian doesn’t really know, he’s been going almost straight home in the evenings. Except Wednesday, of course, but again: Julian is choosing not to try and unpack Wednesday.

Going back to his week pre-Wednesday works for a total of one whole day. 

On Friday, he's been home about twenty minutes before there's a rap on his door.

Julian opens it and Josh sweeps inside, walking into the apartment like the door was never an issue. The scent of something garlicky follows him in.

“You know, sometimes I think people just _want_ to suffer,” Josh says, sounding like he's picking up from the middle of a conversation Julian knows they haven’t had before.

Julian watches Josh walk across the room. There’s a plastic bag of what appears to contain take-out in his hand. “Why’s that?” Julian says, instead of maybe a more reasonable ‘what are you doing here?’

“It’s really just like a slap in the face,” Josh says. He drops the take out onto the secondhand table that occupies the corner of the living room, near where the kitchen area begins. “So first, fucking Crane submitted a proposal to require mutants to obtain permission from a _court_ before—quote—assisting in crisis. I mean it's laughable that he'll get enough support to get it through, but this fucking guy has been trying to neuter us since he got elected. But then there's the news about the the fucking _lofts_.”

“The what?” Julian says. He can't actually remember who this Crane guy is, but he knows what a loft is, so it seems like a more accessible topic of conversation. He drifts over to the table and opens the take out bag, unloading the containers within. There’s no silverware.

“John Dexter High School, you know it, right?” Josh asks.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” Julian says, because surprisingly, he has. It’s a school almost smack in the middle of District X, and he knows of it only because it’s been on the news a couple times in the past couple of years for its declining enrollment numbers.

“So you know the Board of Education closed it a year and half ago. Well, a real estate developer bought it and there was a report that came out today that they’re renovating the whole building,” Josh says.

Julian frowns. “And…”

“They’re turning it into a fucking luxury apartment building. _Lofts_ , Keller. In District X.” Josh shakes his head in disbelief. “What a fucking joke.”

“Who’s gonna move into a place like that, though?” Julian says.

Josh stares at him. “Hipsters, dude. Assholes who like the idea of living in a renovated school and getting to peek out their window at their mutant neighbors like they’re on safari.”

Julian grimaces.

Josh gets a sorry look on his face. “Sorry,” he mutters, and gets busy setting up the table again.

He’s brought… Olive Garden, Julian thinks. There’s a lot of tomato sauce and lean proteins in seafood and chicken, plus a lot of roasted vegetables.  He’d be sure of the source, except not only is there a distinct lack of cheese among the food, but all of the containers and bags are devoid of logos, and even the chocolate mints that apparently got tossed in with the bags don’t exactly seem on-brand.

Regardless, Julian isn’t going to turn down free food. He goes to find his silverware, and when he returns, Josh has the table set and is holding out a hand for the forks and shit all expectant-like.

“Plates,” he says, and Julian does a one-eighty back to the cupboard.

When they’re finally sitting, Julian realizes just how fucking small his table is because he keeps trying to stretch his legs out and ends up kicking Josh every time. And vice versa, of course, but even if Julian suspects that Josh is kicking him a little more times than what can believably be considered 'on accident', the food is good.

They dig in without a word, shoveling food onto their plates with the efficiency of two people used to eating communal meals in much larger groups.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” Josh asks after a while.

Julian shrugs. He has a paper, but it won’t take long. Cessily will probably be back by Saturday with the Utopia group, so they'll have their weekly brunch on Sunday. That's about it, though.

“There’s a blood drive at the clinic tomorrow,” says Josh. He puts his fork down, his plate empty.

“Yeah. Your post is on the server bulletin,” Julian says.

 “You’re a universal donor.” 

“Yeah.”  He glances at Josh and then snorts. The iron-rich meal suddenly makes more sense. “I’ll do it, obviously. You didn’t need to try and bribe me.” And this is mostly true; he _did_ see the bulletin Josh made several weeks back, but as with most things that get put on the bulletin, Julian half-forgot about it, and without the reminder now, he might’ve forgone the whole thing.

“Okay. Good,” Josh says. “Guess my job here is done.” He rises from his chair.

Julian stares. “Are you for real?”

Josh shrugs and saunters over to the door. At the last second, one hand on the doorknob, he turns and looks back. “Oh God, your face,” he says, laughing.

Julian pointedly does not scowl. “Whatever,” he says. _It’s not like I invited you_.

But Josh lets go of the door and walks back into the room, looking around again like he’s never had a proper look at the space.

Julian supposes he hasn’t, not since the party.

There isn’t much _to_ look at —not in Julian’s opinion, anyway. He thinks he used to be more of a decorator, but the frequent moves he’s gone through over the years has sort of killed that ambition in him. Still, there’s a bulletin board over on the wall by the window, brought over by Megan and hung up with all of Julian’s print photos are pinned to it, as well as random scraps of other things.

Josh walks over to the board and examines at it for a moment. “Who’s this?” he asks, pointing to a picture.

“I don’t know,” Julian says when he goes over closer to get a better look. “Laura took it.”

He remembers pausing on this particular photograph several weeks ago; it is one of an anonymous, cobblestone alley stretching long into the distance of an old city, the frame populated by a handful of locals cutting through the quiet scene, captured walking along the stone walls in the blue shade. In the mid-ground, at the focus of the photo, a young woman walks away, dark hair billowing on a breeze behind her. A crack of sunlight beaming down over her scatters off haze in the air and reflects copper tones off the swishing tips of her hair, creating a fiery illusion.

It's an image that carries the vague implication of a significant moment through composition and color and although Julian doesn’t think he examined this particular photo _that_ much longer than any of the others, Laura must have noticed because she had it developed and pinned it to the board one day without ceremony.

“It's nice,” Josh says, and falls silent for a moment, looking at the other photos and mementos on the board.

There are two group photos from the last couple of years that he's in —one from a trip to Utopia, taken on the beach after a game of volleyball for which they were on the same team—and another, much older and taken at such a distance, the three hundred or so faces in the image are barely discernible. That one is from a school Sports Day maybe six or seven years ago, and Julian isn't sure where it came from or who pinned it to the board, except that shortly after he noticed it, he spent over an hour trying to pick apart the faces and recall all the names.

Josh stares at the photo for a moment, and then looks over the rest of the board—at a Hellions group photo, a strip from a photo booth at a mall near Greymalkin, and several polaroids of various classmates on group outings and trips taken in recent years.

“You don't do this yourself, do you?” Josh says after an unnervingly long time.

Julian has subconsciously crossed his arms while watching Josh and now he shifts his weight onto his back leg, wishing he hadn't committed to standing so close over Josh’s shoulder. “No,” he says, deciding to take the opportunity to walk back toward the table and gather up the trash of their meal. “I don't really touch that thing. It just gets… rearranged when everyone comes over.”

“I like the doodles, though,” Josh says, referencing scraps of notebook paper pinned to the lower right corner. “Yours, right?”

“Our friends are packrats,” Julian says,

“But not you?” 

Julian avoids answering by walking farther off to throw out the empty food containers. He puts the plastic bags in with all the other ones he keeps under the kitchen sink.

When he goes back to the living room, Josh has his back turned to the bulletin board and is standing in the middle of the floor with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“No TV,” Josh says, “What do you do here, then?”

Julian shrugs. “Eat? Sleep? Do my school work? I dunno, jerk off? Do you just watch TV during all your free time?”

Josh laughs and then says, “Wanna go to Pinball?”

Julian tilts his head, blinks, and finds himself saying, “Sure.”

 

The old-school arcade is expectedly packed for a Friday night, a portion of the crowd populating the recently renovated cafe area, but even more milling around the games.

Josh pushes them toward the coin exchange machine and grabs a plastic cup off the top to collect quarters, which he gets exchanged for a five-dollar bill.

Julian follows suit and they squeeze their way into the arcade, past an initial block of machines—DDR and first-person shooter games that always attract the most patrons.

In the back is a row of older games that are oddly compelling to play to Julian, despite the majority of games losing his interest because of his TK. He like these old games in a weird way because he can just pull back a spring and follow the predictable trajectory of a ball with his eyes, not just his powers. He can also more easily cheat at these games, of course, but there’s something charming about vintage arcade games that prevent him from doing so. Sanctity of the old mechanical.

He and Josh pick neighboring games and feed their quarters into the coin slots.

They play in companionable silence for a moment and Julian knows that Josh loses first when he swears softly and turns to watch Julian.

“Why don't you just cheat?” Josh asks.

“No prize. What's the point of that, anyway?” Julian says. 

The last little ball from the cache rolls into the gutter at the bottom of the board, ready for a new game.

“Wanna play the hoop game?” Josh says when he steps away from the machine and turns toward him.

There’s a row of basketball hoops across the arcade, most of them taken at the moment, but one near the end obviously unoccupied. Josh is already make a beeline toward it.

“You play and then I play and we’ll see who scores the highest in the time limit,” Josh says.

Julian trails after him, rolling his eyes. “You can’t aim for shit,” he says, which is blatantly not true, but is one of those things he finds himself saying anyway because, a Cessily-esque voice in his mind notes, he’s not sure what else to say and men relate to each other through insults.

“No cheating,” Josh tells him with narrowed eyes when they reach the one open hoop machine. “I’ll be able to tell, anyway.”

“You think the green aura is a permanent feature?” Julian says, “Idiot.”

Josh puts money in the machine and hand-sized basketballs roll out onto the board. “I mean, I can tell if you’re cheating on a cellular level,” Josh says. He then gestures for Julian to step the fuck up.

A red starting countdown begins on the counter under the game’s hoop.

Julian stares at Josh for another second, trying to wrap his head around the implications of that. “No you can’t,” he decides, and picks up a ball.

Despite his convictions, he resists even the instinct to track the ball through the air, suppressing all of his senses until he feels like his head might explode. It's one of the longest minutes ever, because for all that he can function normally, it feels wrong, like he's holding his breath. 

He scores a solid sixty-five baskets, all said and done, and when he says “fuck yeah, beat that,” and turns to rub it in Josh’s face, Julian is startled to find that he is standing right behind him, his face suddenly so close that it’s an outright miracle he didn’t get elbowed in the chest at some point in the last minute.

Julian’s mouth goes weirdly dry and he blinks several times in surprise and steps back pretty automatically, the back of his thighs hitting the front of the hoop machine. “Your turn,” he says, edging around Josh. “Sixty-six shots in a minute to win.”

He lands fifty-eight shots all said and done, but Julian ends up staring at a spot in the middle of his back the whole time, trying to figure out if Josh is still fucking up to something, or if he’s just Like That, and why the hell it’s taking his pulse so long to return to normal.

“It was close,” Josh declares, turning around when the game ends.

Julian crosses his arms. “A difference of eight is not _close_ ,” he says.

Josh mirrors his pose. “A difference of eight is not _close_ ,” he parrots,

Julian rolls his eyes. “Just say you want a rematch, dude.” 

There’s a moment where Josh blinks, and he looks like he’ll really do just that, but then he just shrugs, turns on his heel, and throws Julian the bird over his shoulder.

Julian makes sure to laugh loud enough for Josh to hear as he walks away.

It’s not terrible, hanging out with Josh. 

Julian already knew this, because they have generally the same interests and approximately the same attention span when it comes to those things.

Josh seems a little bit more prone to distraction than Julian remembers and expects, easily drawn away from one game after a round when he notices a different one nearby that has just been vacated.

A part of Julian sort of wants to suggest going across the street to The Yard and grab a couple of drinks like he would normally if he came out here with Santo and Cessily. Then he remembers the blood donation tomorrow. _Fuck it_ , he thinks, _maybe some other time_.

Josh must be thinking about the blood donation, too, because he turns to Julian. “I should head back to the mansion,” he says. “I need to be up by six-thirty to get over to the clinic and help set up.”

“Oh…”

Josh narrows his eyes. “For the blood drive.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Julian says hastily. “Are you gonna Lyft back?”

“I was gonna walk,” Josh says.

Julian follows him through the crowd to the exit.

Outside, the cool night feels like a breath of fresh air. Julian didn’t realise how stuffy it was getting in the arcade. “It’s almost an hour walk back, though,” he says.

“I know. That’s why I’m going now.” Josh turns on the sidewalk, and the neon sign of the arcade reflects blue off the side of his face. 

Before Julian can think it through, he finds himself saying, “Well, I could fly you back.”

Josh laughs.

“What?” Julian says, feeling weirdly self-conscious. Laughter isn’t exactly an expected response after all, is it? And he can’t help but feel a flash of unfocused panic when someone laughs at what he says and he can’t figure out why.

Josh just shakes his head. “It’s okay. I better fucking see you tomorrow, though, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Jesus.”

“Good.” Following this, Josh holds out a fist at mid-chest height so naturally that Julian finds himself reaching out to respond with a light bump automatically.

“See you,” he says in the same breath, and it’s only after he’s taken off into the sky on his own that his brain begins echoing back their conversation. It all felt… nice. And somehow that’s no surprise anymore.

 _Face it, Keller_ , he thinks, _you’ve got another friend._

 

This realization of Josh’s friendship sits in him with a new sense of formal responsibility he can’t quite figure out how to deal with.

The next morning, he chugs a glass of water in preparation of donating blood, figuring he might as well fly over to Jean Grey’s and take the X-Commute to the city. From there, he can catch a bus to District X and get the donation out of the way first thing.

On the bus, though, he suddenly begins to wonder if he should pick up some coffee. He can’t have caffeine before donating blood, obviously, but if he’s considering Josh a friend now,  wouldn’t coffee be nice? Especially when he woke up early to set up?

_Don’t overthink it, you idiot. Would you get Cess a coffee?_

He arrives at the clinic with a paper cup of coffee, white mocha with an extra shot of espresso.

The area right off the entrance is obviously some kind of waiting room but today there’s a portion of the seating area that is roped off with signs indicating their use for the blood drive. Beside a hallway past a reception desk, there is a door off to one side of the waiting room has a paper taped to the door that reads ‘BLOOD DONATION’.

When Julian walks in, there are already two people in the seating area, filling out clipboards as they wait.

He approaches the reception desk. “Hey, um, I’m here for the…”

“Blood drive?” The receptionist says, smiling kindly. The nametag on the front of her uniform says Anne. “Did you register ahead of time or are you a walk-in?”

“Walk-in. I have…” Julian slides his wallet out of his pocket and floats it up to the desk counter. “My I.D…”

“Perfect,” Anne says, and gets him some information and a form for him to fill out while he waits to donate.

Julian hovers by the counter instead of going over to the sitting area right away.“Is Josh—Josh Foley here, by the way?” he asks shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 

“I think he may have gone back to the check-up rooms,” Anne says, reaching for the house phone. “I can call him.” 

“Oh, wait, no. It’s he’s busy, you don’t...”

“Julian!”

And just like that, he’s rescued by Josh himself, emerging from a door beyond the reception desk.

“Hey,” he says, weirdly breathless as he turns. He winces internally.

“You got here earlier than I thought,” Josh says. He frowns. “That better not be coffee, dude. You can’t have caffeine before”

“-chill,” Julian says, brandishing the cup. “It’s for you. You said you had to wake up early.”

Josh’s expression clears. He raises his eyebrows and glances at Anne and then at Julian. “Oh. Thanks.” He accepts the coffee and takes a quick sip. “Mm, uh, okay. Anne? Does he have-?”

Julian holds up the clipboard with the form on it. “Got it… and I’m just gonna… sit over there.” He points at the designated seating area and then hustles over there while he thinks firm thoughts about how this absolutely does not constitute fleeing.

He sits down without another upward glance and concentrates on the clipboard in front of him before he realizes he doesn’t have a fucking pen. Julian just stares at the line asking for his first and last name for a while, wondering if anyone would notice if he slid a pen out of the cup on the reception desk and sort of just rolled it across the floor toward him.

Josh sits down in the seat next to him. “Pen,” he says, putting one down on Julian’s clipboard. “And your queue number.” 

“Thanks,” Julian says, and gets to filling out the form. He can sense Josh watching him write and hears him sip his coffee.

“Did I do something?” Josh asks after a moment.

Julian looks up. “What?”

Josh is looking at him with a vague frown, “I don’t know. You seem jumpy. I feel like I did something maybe and you’re being weir-”

“-I’m not,” Julian says, feeling his neck flush. _Fuck_ , he thinks. “You didn’t do anything, I’m just—just…” He blinks. “I’m overthinking or something,”

“Oh,” Josh says, but he straightens up a little, shrugging off whatever uncertainty he had before. He sips his coffee. “What about?”

Julian just shakes his head and goes back to filling out his form. “School,” he lies, “The future with a capital ‘f’, you know?” It’s a reasonable enough answer that Josh seems to accept it, and it’s easier than the truth, which Julian suspects to be more along the lines of _I decided we’re friends after yesterday and I think it broke my brain and I don’t know how to act now_.

“Well, since you’re here early, there’s not much of a wait. Everyone else is coming by later, or so I’m told,” Josh says, “We’ll see about that.”

Julian nods knowingly. For all the convenience of group teleportation, it still takes ages to wrangle everyone together to do it. Even though the group at Utopia is supposed to be back today, it’s a toss up as to whether that will be around noon or late in the evening. He’s  quiet for a moment and finishes filling out the sheet on his clipboard before he looks up again. “So are you gonna be here all day?” Julian asks, “For the blood drive?” 

“No, it ends at four but I’m off at two today,” Josh says. He takes the clipboard out of Julian’s hands and tucks it under his arm. “Why?”

“I dunno. If you’re not doing anything later…”

“You wanna go out?” Josh says flippantly.

Julian startles, but when he sees Josh’s expression, he sees the tiny smirk on his face that says he is absolutely just fucking with him. “What,” Julian says, “Second date already?”

Josh blinks and grins. “I believe you mean _third_.”

Julian scoffs. “I said that one didn’t count,” he says, feeling relieved that they seem to be on the same page. He feels some of his nervous energy dissipate. _Right_ , he thinks, _nothing’s changed, really_. “Anyway,” he says, “After work. Drinks at Harry’s?”

Josh shrugs. “It’s Saturday night, right? Everyone’ll be there. I don’t have any other plans...”

“—Number eleven?” A voice calls and Julian looks over to see a woman standing in the doorway of the room labeled ‘BLOOD DONATION’.

He glances at this ticket number. “That’s me,” he says, standing up. “Later?”

“Yeah. I should get to work,” Josh says, although he gets up and follows Julian over, handing the papers from the clipboard to the waiting nurse and keeping the clipboard. “Charlene, this is Julian. He’s a teammate.”

Charlene, a petite woman with short, curly hair, smirks. “Oh, a friend of Josh’s? I’ll make sure to make the most of this opportunity to gossip behind your back.”

“I know for a fact that you have nothing on me, Charlene,” Josh says, faking haughtiness, “But feel free to talk about me. I know I’m an irresistible point of conversation.”

“In your dreams, Foley,” Julian mutters, which earns a giggle from Charlene.

She ushers him into the blood donation room, where he can see two chairs inside, one with middle-aged looking man in the midst of having blood drawn by another nurse. “Come on, we’ll take good care of you… You’re not scared of needles or anything, are you?”

"No, definitely not," he says, and glances over his shoulder rather unnecessarily. Somewhat to his relief, he sees that Josh is already heading back to the reception desk, though Anne catches his eye just as the room door closes.

He thinks he sees her send him a knowing wink from across the room, but he could be wrong.

 

 

::

**X SQUAD CHAT SQUAD**

 

 **#hell-squad** (private)

\--

 

overlord – cesspool

 

online – 11

🅱atch

cesspool

elixir

helloa ;)

julian keller

kid lizard the amazing

nori “mutants can’t parallel park” ashida

Paras

pixiestix

Sooraya Qadir

♕✩Your Highness✩♕

 

offline – 11

an ACTUAL rock

celeste ♡

hisako

Irma

laura the explorer

Kid Ω

Nezhno

PHOEBE

Prodigy

roxxy

ruth(less)

\--

 

_Today at 3:34 pm_

 

 **pixiestix:** GUESS WHOSE BACK! :gem: :sparkle: :crown:

 **pixiestix:** *who’s :sweat_smile:

 **🅱atch:** nice going

 **nori “mutants can’t parallel park” ashida** : nooo come back

 **♕✩Your Highness✩♕: @pixiestix** way to perpetuate stereotypes…

 **nori “mutants can’t parallel park” ashida:** it’s O.K, megan

 **julian keller: @nori “mutants can’t parallel park” ashida** don’t say it.

 **kid lizard the amazing:** don’t say what? :smirk:

 **nori “mutants can’t parallel park” ashida:** mutants can’t spell

**julian keller: @cesspool**

**kid lizard the amazing: @cesspool**

**🅱atch: @cesspool**

**cesspool:** Surge, youre on thin ice here!!

 **kid lizard the amazing:** yeah surge! 

 **nori “mutants can’t spell” ashida:** :nail_care::skin-tone-3: 

 **julian keller:** by the way, you all have half an hour to go to the mutant town health clinic to donate blood.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation at the beginning of the chapter is drawn from this local controversy:  
> https://www.chicagoreader.com/chicago/stewart-school-lofts-school-closings-uptown-gentrification/Content?oid=56169490  
> Obviously it was more relevant when I started writing this chapter a couple of months ago...

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews, as always, are super appreciated! I'd love to know what anyone thinks. Next chapter will include more action.


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